


How to deal with an emotionally stunted best friend by Iwaizumi Hajime

by flaminpumpkin



Series: Haikyuu!! Random Fics [9]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Divergence, Iwaizumi is sad and confused, M/M, Makki is doneTM, Oikawa doesn't know how to deal ith feelings, Panic Attacks, Swearing, also fluff because i'm weak, briefly, no beta we die like men, oh and did I mention PINNING, trigger warning : bolognese sauce gets murdered in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:01:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23130610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flaminpumpkin/pseuds/flaminpumpkin
Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime wasn't expecting his relationship with his bestfriend to change a lot when he left for an exchange program. After all they went through, what could a bunch of kilometers do?Oh, how wrong was he to think that.
Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro & Iwaizumi Hajime, Hanamaki Takahiro & Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Series: Haikyuu!! Random Fics [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1800349
Comments: 16
Kudos: 98





	How to deal with an emotionally stunted best friend by Iwaizumi Hajime

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo, this is the first time ever I post one of my writings online, so please have mercy  
> Also, english not being my first language, I apologize in advance for any spelling or grammatical mistake, there's probably a bunch.  
> And if anything sounds weird, I'll just justify myself saying it sounded better in my head.
> 
> Edit 04/27/2020  
> I noticed typos so I came back to edit it, sorry ✌

As Hajime watched his childhood best friend go through the security check, reality dawned on him. Oikawa was leaving. _Shit_ , he thought, feeling his throat constrict. _I already miss this idiot and he’s not even on the plane yet_.

He was only leaving for a year but… They’d been together their whole lives. They had gone to the same elementary school, the same middle school, the same high school. They even decided to go to the same college.

It was hard. Coming back to their place and be alone every day for a year after living with his excentric friend was going to be hard. He was going to miss ranting about his world history professor while watching Oikawa go around the apartment wearing a quilt around his shoulder like cape because _it’s cold Iwa-chan, not everybody in here is a gorilla._ He was even going to miss hearing him bitch and whine about being on the same team as Ushiwaka on a daily basis.

Hajime smiled to himself.

His chestnut haired friend had always brought a sense of familiarity in their apartment - a two bedroom flat which belonged to Hajime’s aunt and that she was renting to them for almost nothing ( _“You’re my favorite nephew after all Hajime” “I’m your only nephew auntie” “Brat”_ ). It wasn’t much but it was close to their campus and, most importantly, it felt like home. Tooru had made sure of that.

But now, he was moving to a new country, a new continent even, and Hajime was lost. The sense of home and familiarity he found while living with his best friend was leaving him and he felt minuscule compared to the immensity of Tokyo.

_“Tooru-kun and you will survive, Hajime. He’s only leaving for a year.”_

His mother’s words came back to his mind as Oikawa turned around one last time. He looked at him and Hajime was struck by the pain he could clearly see in his best friend’s eyes. He watched in shock as it was replaced by a cold kind of determination in the span on a second. Tooru raised his hand, waving at him one last time, before turning around and walking away, not leaving any time to his best friend to reciprocate the gesture.

_What the…? Asshole._

The dark haired man shook his head with a huff and made his way out of the airport, hands in his pocket, not without a last glance to the security check, towards his now gone best friend.

* * *

Hajime climbed the stairs two steps at a time, too impatient to wait for the elevator. His and Oikawa’s apartment was only on the fourth floor anyway and he only had his messenger bag with him.

He couldn’t wait to check his messages. He was expecting to hear from Oikawa but _of course_ he had forgotten his charger at home that morning and his phone had died right after lunch. The one day he actually needed it to stay on at all time.

The spiky haired man unlocked the door and threw everything on the floor by the door, making a bee line for his room to get his charger and plug his phone. He gave it five minutes to charge up a little and went in the kitchen to get a glass of juice.

When he went back to his room, Hajime took hold of his phone and turned it on. He couldn’t suppress the wide grin from spreading on his face when a text notification popped up on his screen with a little _ping_ and opened it immediately.

 **Godziwa** :

hey. hows your flight?

you good?

 **Shittykawa** :

hey iwachan, yeah im fine

sorry im exhausted ttyl

Hajime was disappointed but at the same time, he could perfectly understand his friend’s exhaustion after a fourteen hours flight.

 **Godziwa** :

alright ttyl

_Read at 8.23pm_

* * *

(Later never came)

* * *

_A day after._

**Godziwa** :

yo i know you’re prob busy but tell me when I can call you

_Read at 6.39pm_

* * *

_A week after_.

 **Godziwa** :

oi you’re dead shittykawa?

answer asshole dont leave me on read

_Read at 4.10am_

Hajime checked his phones for probably the hundredth time just this afternoon. He couldn’t focus. Oikawa hadn’t texted him back since the day he arrived in the United States and he was starting to get seriously worried. Oikawa, with his snarky comments and pretty face – yeah, he was honest with himself enough to admit that his friend was in the pretty category – probably got himself in trouble if he wasn’t answering Hajime.

He tried to get back to working on his paper – it was due for Monday and it was Saturday afternoon _goddammit_ – but after rewriting five times the same sentence, he gave up.

He picked up his phone again, dialed his mother’s number and waited for her to pick up, worrying his lip. He wanted to call Oikawa’s mother directly but he didn’t want to disturb her. Being a nurse, her schedule had always been all over the place and he didn’t want to wake her up in case she’d had a nightshift the night before. Plus, his mother and Oikawa-san had always been pretty close given the fact that her son was over to their house more often than not.

She finally picked up.

“Hajime? Is there something wrong?”

The young man exhaled.

“Hey mom. No, everything’s fine…Um, did you see Oikawa-san recently?”

“No, not this week. But I was actually on the phone with her the other day. I asked her about Tooru-kun, since _you_ didn’t tell me anything.” his mother said accusingly, clearly upset.

_Ah._

The young man swallowed.

“Hajime?”

He opened his mouth to talk but nothing came out. He cleared his throat and tried again.

“What did she say about him? Is he alright?”

“What? Of course he’s alright. She said he told her he was settling pretty well. Why are you asking me?” she paused “You sound weird honey. Are you sure everything’s okay?” Great, now she was worried.

“Um… He… I haven’t talked to him since the day he arrived in the States… He said he was exhausted and that we’d talked later but… he hasn’t answered any other text I sent him…”

Hajime could feel his throat tightening.

“Honey, I’m sure-”

“Yeah, uhm. Look, I have to go.” he interrupted her, closing his eyes. “I’ll talk to you later, ok?” he managed to say. He could hear her sigh on the other side of the line.

“Alright.” she said, resigned. “I’m sure there’s a reason he hasn’t reached out to you yet. Let him some time to settle.”

Hajime paused before ending the call.

“Bye mom.”

“Goodbye sweetie.”

He ended the call.

So at least Oikawa was alive and well according to his mother. Hajime didn’t have to worry about that anymore. Now he was confused. Confused as to why his best friend was ghosting him.

Jogging his memory, he tried to remember if they had a fight before Oikawa’s departure and came up with absolutely nothing. He even stopped whining about Hajime calling him Shittykawa during his last week in their apartment. This argument was old as hell and represented at least fifty percent of their banter. But it wasn’t enough for him to ignore his _best friend_ after moving _on the other side of the world_ , even petty as he was.

So what the hell was going on with him?

A lot of people thought of Tooru as superficial and manipulative. And he was, sometimes. But with the people he considered his friends, he was incredibly caring and attentive, always observing and making sure everyone was alright, even if he hid it behind snarky words. So him acting like that didn’t make sense. Especially for Hajime.

Which why he took his phone again, opened his conversation with Oikawa and started typing.

 **Godziwa** :

did smth happened? why are you ignoring me?

dont make me pull the bestfriend card thats your thing

_Read at 5.16pm_

So Oikawa was online. Good. He waited a bit to see if his friend was going to answer but nothing came. _Seriously?_

 **Godziwa** :

what the fuck oikawa? whats up with you?

_Read at 5.22pm_

Hajime frowned, brows knitting tightly above his green eyes. He threw his phone on his desk and got up. What exactly had he done for his chestnut haired friend to act like that? And if he had done something, couldn’t Oikawa just tell him instead of giving him the silent treatment? They were adults, for crying out loud.

He was downright furious right now. Confused and furious. He had half a mind to go get his phone again and call the asshole right this moment and yell at him, but decided against it. After all, if he didn’t text back, why would he bother answering a phone call?

Hajime stormed out of his room and left the flat, leaving his unfinished homework behind, as well as his phone.

* * *

(Later that evening, the young man found himself back to his apartment. The anger in him had simmered down.

But now in its place was another growing feeling, a sadness akin to heartbreak.)

* * *

_A month and a half later._

“I don’t fucking care!”

Hajime violently threw the pot full of his carbonized attempt at Bolognese sauce in the sink. He turned around to look at Makki and Mattsun who were sitting at the table of the small kitchenette. Oikawa and he used to study there together, paper and books scattered all around them.

Mattsun had come to visit them and was staying at the apartment with Hajime for the week end. Makki had also decided to stay there for the time their friend was in Tokyo rather than going back to his dorm every time.

His roommate had his girlfriend over anyway and he wasn’t kin on hearing them going at it. Again. Hajime had stopped him right after that because, knowing Makki, he could have gone into a detailed description of why and he could really well do without it. That’s what you get for having a friend in the artistic field.

“He can stay studying there for the rest of his major if he wants to. He can even live there for the rest of his life, I don’t care.” he spat, tasting the bile on his tongue.

His two friends glanced at each other. Hajime could see it on their faces they weren’t convinced one bit. Well, that made three of them.

“We thought you at least knew about that.” Mattsun said sheepishly after some time. He looked like a kicked puppy and the young man actually felt bad about shouting at them earlier. He sighed and leaned back against the counter, defeated.

“How would I?”

How would he know that Tooru was considering to stay studying in the US another year? Every time his mother had tried to give him some news about his best friend she had gotten from Oikawa-san, he’d interrupted her and found a way to end the call with some weak excuses. He had purposefully forgot to call Oikawa-san several times, even though she was like a second mother to him. And let’s not talk about texting said best friend. Hajime hadn’t even opened their text conversation since that night, over a month ago. Just looking at Oikawa’s contact name filled him with conflicted emotions, the most prominent one often being anger.

“I’m really sorry Iwa.” Makki looked pained. “We shouldn’t have brought it up.”

Mattsun jerked his chin in agreement. Everyone seemed to feel guilty except the one who was supposed to, Hajime thought. _Classic Shittykawa. Making people feel like shit about his actions without any remorse._

“You don’t have to apologize for him. He’s the one who should be apologizing”

An awkward silence filled the small kitchen and the three young men were left staring at everything except the other. _So much for spending the weekend chilling with friends_.

Hajime opened his mouth to try and somewhat ease up the tension but Mattsun beat him to it.

“So, about dinner…” he drawled in that sleepy voice of his, his droopy eyes glinting with mirth.

They all looked at the pot in the sink, then at each other.

“If you guys like actual charcoal with your pasta, dinner is almost ready.” Hajime sassed.

“Why not? Could be tasty.”

Makki made a face. Mattsun sniggered. Hajime smirked.

And with that, the whole mood of the room lifted and the dark haired man felt like he was breathing freely again, the weight on his chest gone.

He was grateful for his friends. As apathetic and childish as they could be, Makki and Mattsun had always been reliable and a great source of comfort. He really loved them – even if he’d never say that to their faces – and their friendship meant as much to him than the one he had with Oikawa.

“You know what guys?” he finally said, after some friendly banter (mostly Makki questioning Hajime’s cooking skills and Mattsun off-handedly telling him off for only eating instant noodles himself) “ I don’t think I can get anything right tonight, so I’m gonna go to the ramen shop across the street and get us something for dinner. I need fresh air anyway.”

They opened their mouth in unison – like the old married couple they were – but Hajime cut them off with a snort.

“I know you two idiots’ order. Who do you take me for?”

“Someone who managed to make charcoal out of tomato sauce?”

“Shut up.”

Takahiro observed him as Iwaizumi took his jacket on his way out of the apartment.

“And don’t get lost old man!” he shouted as his friend disappeared in the genkan.

A floating middle finger immerged from behind the wall and sent him and Issei in a fit of laughter. It was good to see Iwaizumi act like his grumpy old self again.

The month after Oikawa’s departure had been rough on him, Takahiro could tell.

He lived in the dorms at Joshibi College, a bit over an hour away from Oiks and Iwaizumi’s flat, so he had made sure to come and spend some time with his friend at least twice a week to make sure he was alright. He had hidden himself behind the pretense of wanting to flee his dorm and his overly sexually active roommate, which wasn’t really a lie, but he usually liked to go to the park or sit on a bench somewhere in the city and draw for a while.

This past two months, Iwaizumi had been a shadow of himself, a bit dead in the eye, like he had lost some part of himself. He was more prone to snap at people, looked tired 24/7 when he was always the one with the most consistent sleeping schedule out of the four of them. Takahiro was also pretty sure there had been a drop in his grades at some point.

He was distraught, and it was understandable. Takahiro would probably react the same way if Issei moved out of the country and stopped communicating with him altogether without giving him any reasons.

So he had made sure to keep an eye on his grumpy hedgehog of a friend. He had started to look a bit better around three weeks ago, less easy to anger and the bags under his eyes less visible. Was it an act Iwaizumi put up for his friend’s sake? The pink haired man sure hoped not.

He heard the door close and waited a bit before turning a heavy gaze towards Issei. _Time to open my big mouth. I need to get it out of my system_.

“I knew it!”

Issei arched a thick brow in interrogation at his sudden outburst and it was all Takahiro needed before throwing himself into a rant.

“I knew it was going to be a mess the moment Oiks told us he was going to America for that exchange thing. I knew it! But hell! They surpassed my expectations! They’re even worse than I imagined” he sighed “What did we do to deserve this Issei?”

He gave a non-committal grunt and Takahiro went on with his tirade.

“Ugh! This is so frustrating! I love Oikawa but right now, I’m seriously thinking about kicking his ass to the next decade next time I see him! What the hell is wrong with him?! If he loved Iwaizumi that much, he could have _at least_ explained himself! But nooooo! No, _instead_ , he decided to throw away more than a decade of friendship, all because he’s a coward!”

Takahiro roughly raked his hand through his mope of pinkish hair and then dragged them across his face in frustration. When he opened his eyes, Issei was looking at him warily, eyes slightly bigger than usual.

Takahiro wasn’t exactly the type to lose his cool often, so that was justified.

While in their group Oikawa and Iwaizumi were each their own brand of chaotic, Issei was the only constant. His cool headedness and detached demeanor were always welcome when Takahiro found himself caught in the other two’s emotional roller coaster. It usually grounded him. But this time, their friends’ antics were particularly arduous to deal with.

Even though, Takahiro was glad he was there, even if only for a couple of days.

“You know what? Fuck him. Fuck this whole situation. I’m done.”

He exhaled loudly and closed his eyes. What an absolute mess. Just because these two couldn’t see through their pinning and deal with their feelings like normal human beings.

“You don’t mean that.” Issei’s voice gently said and god, did that voice ground him.

“No. I don’t.” he admitted. “But still. I’m done with their emotional constipation. It’s been the same thing for almost five years and I’m tired.”

Issei clasped a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, showing his support to his friend. He had always been awkward when comforting people for as long as Takahiro had known him, but at least he tried.

“I know you are. It’s the same for me. But drop the subject for tonight, Hiro.”

The young man opened his eyes again to find his best friend looking at him pleadingly.

“I came here to spend time with my friends and enjoy a nice weekend in Tokyo. I want both of you to relax.”

He nodded and Issei squeezed his shoulder one last time before letting go. That’s when Takahiro suddenly scoffed.

“Wait a second.” he squinted his eyes “You want me to deal with this alone!” he gasped, pointing accusingly at the other young man. Issei rolled his eyes, shaking his head, but smiled nonetheless.

“No, I just want to catch up with the two of you because it’s been a couple of months since the last time I saw you.”

“Mhm.”

Takahiro turned his head to pout, not without glancing at Issei out of the corner of his eyes.

“You’re off the hook. For now”

With that said, they drifted on another subject, discussing idly with the other about their different courses and the changes compared to the year prior, until Iwaizumi returned, freshly made ramen in hand.

A hour after they all bid each other good night and retreated in their respecting room - Mattsun and Makki had claimed Oikawa’s for themselves - Hajime was sitting at his desk, head resting in his hands, and staring undecidedly at in his reflection in the black screen of his phone.

He’d been thinking about it for weeks, but no matter how many hours he spent trying to find an explanation to his best friend behavior, he came up with nothing. He closed his eyes and a certain memory came back to him. It was the day Oikawa had left, when they’d been waiting for him to be able to register his suitcases and get his ticket.

_They were sitting next to each other at a Starbucks, two cups of atrociously watered down beverage they dared to call coffee in front of them. Seriously, paying that much to drink something that tasted like piss was beyond Hajime, but they had woken up in a frenzy, courtesy of Oikawa who had barely slept the night before, and his organism was lacking the necessary amount of caffeine to function this early in the morning._

_And so they found themselves snuggling to each other (read Tooru was clinging to his arm like a sloth to its branch), navigating quietly through their phones while waiting. Oikawa put his phone in front of his face to show him some meme Mattsun had sent him and when Hajime turned his head to give him a disappointed look, his breath caught in his throat._

_His best friend had his cheek squished against his shoulder, big hazel eyes looking up to him with a mirthful glint in them. His chestnut locks, usually carefully styled, were sticking in every direction, looking like he had just woken up – which was not too far from the truth – and his lips were stretched by a lazy smile Oikawa didn’t usually show outside of the safety of their apartment. He looked too damn adorable for his own good. The young man averted his eyes and ruffled his friend’s hair, hoping to distract him from the faint blush forming on his cheeks._ How the hell does it feel so soft when it looks like that? _he thought, slightly horrified with himself._

_“Why don’t you take a nap, idiot? You look like shit.”_

_“So rude, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa replied tiredly with a pout, but he still nuzzled Hajime clothed shoulder and closed his eyes._

He opened his eyes again and let himself drop back against the back of his desk chair to stare at the ceiling.

The memory left a sour taste in Hajime’s mouth. More than ten years of friendship, of being together through highs and lows, victory and loss, through tears, joy, hardship, even break-ups, and still right now, Hajime felt like he didn’t know his best friend that well after all. His lips turned down into a scowl and he resolutely grabbed his phone.

What could’ve happened between that moment where Oikawa had been his usual clingy self and the time his plane had landed thousands of kilometers away?

Tooru’s contact name was glaring back at him and, for a second, his determination wavered. _To hell with it! I deserve a fucking explanation!_ he thought angrily, and started typing.

 **Godziwa** :

oi ive had enough of this.

stop behaving like a child and tell me whats wrong oikawa.

Hajime wasn’t expecting an immediate answer, if he even got one at all, so he dropped his phone on his desk and stood up to get ready to sleep when it suddenly vibrated, screen lighting up with a text notification.

He took hold of his phone, opened the text –

“Finally owning up to your actions, you lit –“

And he stopped.

_What…_

His breath caught in his throat. He reread it.

Blinked a few times. Read it a third time.

But it was still the same.

 **Shittykawa** :

Please stop texting me Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi. Not Iwa-chan. Not the childish nickname he gave him after Hajime told him to stop calling him by his given name. They were too old for that.

_Iwaizumi._

Not… Iwa-chan…

A strangled sob escaped his mouth, breaking him out of his stupor. That’s when he noticed, with a numb kind of horror, the little droplets landing on his phone screen, on his hand.

Suddenly, Hajime let go his phone with an angry flick of his wrist, the device landing with a loud thud on the wood of the desk. Another sob was ripped out throat and his hands came up to plaster themselves on his face, fingers hastily trying to brush away the tears, physical proof that it was affecting him more than he wanted it too.

He snarled angrily at himself. No. He wasn’t going to give this idiot the satisfaction of crying over him.

But the dam was broken.

Another sob came up. And another one. And another one after that. Again.

They were coming up faster and faster now.

As well as his tears.

Spilling out of his eyes like an overflowing sink. Across his face. Through his fingers. Down his chin, along his throat.

They fell silently on the fake wooden floor while his body was wracked by angry sobs and furious tears.

The young man started to walk backwards, until the back of his knees hit his bed, and let himself fall, sitting curled up on himself with his head tucked between his knees. He was breathing heavily, taking in big gulps of air, but the young man felt as if he was suffocating, like his torso was being crushed under boulder. His hands went up to his hair and he tugged harshly on it.

It was painful. But pain was grounding. Pain reminded him where he was, which might have escaped his mind for a second.

The dark haired man slowly uncurled his legs and put his bare feet on the floor, forcing himself to come down from his panic. He rubbed his scalped in the places he had roughly abused it and exhaled slowly through gritted teeth.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Hold.

Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

For several minutes.

It had been a while since the last time he’d had a panic attack. Contrary to popular belief, Oikawa wasn’t the only one who had those. Hajime was prone to it too, had always been, consequences of having a missing father apparently. He simply hid it better. 

The panic subsided after some time, his erratic breathing becoming more even, still interrupted by a hiccup every once in a while. The flow of tears had stopped too at some point, but left him hiccupping nonetheless. It left him feeling weirdly empty, but not relieved in the slightest.

Hajime took his hands out of his hair, joints protesting after clenching his fists so hard, and scrubbed down his face, sniffling loudly. This hollow sensation in his chest was horrible. He just wanted it to stop. So he shuffled up the bed and slid under the cover, hoping for a dreamless sleep.

And with one last sigh, the young man closed his tired eyes and let himself slip away.

When he woke up the day after, eyes red and puffy, Mattsun and Makki were already up. If they’d heard him cry himself to sleep the night before, they didn’t mention it.

* * *

_Two months later._

After that fated night a couple of month ago, where he and Issei had had to listen to one of their closest friend cry himself to sleep, Takahiro had decided to do as much in his power as he could to distract Iwaizumi from this whole ordeal. The guy needed a break after waking up looking like a zombie because the poor excuse of a human being he (still) considered his best friend was treating him like dirt.

Unfortunately for him, right now, it meant drinking an insane amount of alcohol in a pub.

“Ok, Iwa. Maybe you should slow down a little. Or at least drink some water. Or eat something. Or maybe even both” he said, taking away his friend’s beer before he could reach for it. He himself had barely had anything to drink since they arrived two hours ago, only a cocktail and two beers. But Iwaizumi, on the other hand, had drank one beer after the other without any pause whatsoever and Takahiro was starting to worry.

His spiky haired friend looked him with bleary eyes, his face scrunched in a frown that looked suspiciously like a pout. _Ugh, please don’t make that face._

“Mmh. Maybe” he finally conceded and Takahiro let out a sigh. Wrestling a beer away from a drunk Iwaizumi was a real rodeo.

Last time it had happened, Issei had almost ended up with a broken nose. Mind you, Iwaizumi wasn’t a violent drunk, he just tended to make really wide and inconsiderate movements with his arms and given the size of his forearms, you didn’t want to have a close encounter with his hands. Or his elbow, for that matter.

Takahiro grimaced at the memory of Issei’s stunned look when his nose had started to bleed profusely - Iwaizumi still apologized regularly for it. Oikawa’s harpy screeches had almost made his ears explode. But still, that was a good memory with the four of them, the young man thought fondly.

The sound of Iwaizumi’s forehead colliding with the table brought him back to the situation at hand. The pink haired man observed his friend with a wary look.

“Please don’t tell me you just passed out”

A groan.

“Ok. Cool.”

Takahiro heard a muffled sound coming from where Iwaizumi had his face squashed against the table top.

“You gotta speak up buddy, I didn’t hear anything.”

Iwaizumi sat back up at a surprising speed given how drunk he was but before he could say anything relevant, his face blanched and he clamped his mouth shut. _Please don’t throw up please don’t throw up please don’t throw up_ , Takahiro chanted in his mind.

“I think m’gonna throw up.” his friend declared dumbly with a blank face.

“Jesus Christ!” Takahiro rubbed at his temples. “Do you need help finding the restroom?”

“Wait.” the other slurred, raising up a hand.

The pink haired man looked expectantly at him, silently praying for him not to throw up right here, right now because, really, how embarrassing. Iwaizumi stared at the table top with a focused expression, like one would wear in the middle of a math class.

“Okay… The room stopped spinnin’ on itself. ‘S better”

 _Time to go home_. Takahiro heaved a sigh and stood up, retrieving his scarf and jacket, before turning towards his friend.

“I’m getting you a glass of water, which you will drink without trying to argue, and then I’m taking you back to your apartment, so don’t go anywhere.”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes but still nodded in agreement.

When he went back to their table fifteen minutes later – Friday nights are the worst – Takahiro found his friend with his head in his hands, shoulders hunched, and a tormented expression painted on his face. He put the glass of water in front him and when Iwaizumi looked up to him, visibly surprised by his friend’s reappearance, his eyes were shining with unshed tears.

Something tightened in the pink haired boy’s chest. Seeing Iwaizumi cry after they had lost a match, whether to Shiratorizawa or to Karasuno, was one thing. They had poured everything they’d had into a common dream just for it to be taken away from them. But everyone had been crying and afterwards, Iwaizumi had been the one to pick them all back up.

Seeing him this close to tears because he was brokenhearted was… a whole different one. Iwaizumi was their pillar. He was the one everybody could lean on blindly because he was always there to catch them.

But Takahiro was starting to think it might have only been a façade after all and this façade was crumbling in front of him. He looked too vulnerable, raw emotions for everyone to see, like the slightest mistake could break him in million pieces, and the young man _knew_ Iwaizumi would rather die than showing people that even he could break and fall apart. Because he wanted to be reliable, he wanted to be immovable and unbreakable, like a beacon of comfort for his loved ones. _Not like my father_ , he had said once.

“Hey-“

“Makki… I think I… I think I love him. I’m in love with my best friend.”

 _Took you long enough_ , Takahiro wanted to say.

“I know” he simply replied instead. He gave the other young man a gentle smile. Iwaizumi averted his gaze, appearing slightly uncomfortable.

“Took me long enough, huh?” he scoffed, scratching the back of his head.

“Well, you _are_ pretty dense.”

“Shut up”

They both let out a quiet laugh.

“Come on, big guy. Time to get you home.” Takahiro said, grabbing his friend’s jacket from the back of his chair and throwing it at him.

To say Iwazumi’s reflexes were slow when he was drunk would be an understatement. Takahiro sniggered as he watched the other young man peel the offensive garment of his face with a growl that resembled in some way to Iwaizumi’s trademark “ _damn it Makki_ ”.

They exited the pub and walked back to Iwaizumi’s apartment complex in silence. It wasn’t that far from where they were and the fresh air always seemed to do wonders on Iwaizumi when he was drunk.

Unfortunately for Takahiro, those twenty minutes of walking were enough for anger and resentment to start brewing inside of him. Iwaizumi was one of his closest friends and seeing him in this state was disheartening. All because their brat of ex-captain was a chicken.

Issei and he had thought it would be better to not intervene when they had heard about the situation between their friends, because somehow, they had always ended up clearing the air pretty quickly. But this time, it was getting out of hand. Oikawa didn’t even realize what was offered to him on a silver platter and it enraged Takahiro. That or, Oikawa knew exactly how Iwaizumi felt, even if the latter hadn’t known until recently, and decided to cut him off. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.

No, Oikawa had flaws, that was a given, but he couldn’t be stupid to the point of willingly hurting he’s best friend like that. _He’s not that awful of a human being. Or is he?_ He didn’t even know anymore. Because Oikawa was spiteful, childish, a bit of a show off and downright mean and obnoxious at times, but Iwaizumi had always been, for as long as Takahiro had known them, the one person he tried to be better for. This behavior was clashing with everything he knew of his friend and Takahiro didn’t know what to do with it.

He was pulled out of his reflection by Iwaizumi’s cursing. His spiky haired friend was currently fighting with his keys to unlock the door of his apartment.

“You’re sure it’s the right one?”

“Yes. I’m sure” Iwaizumi turned his head to look at him over his shoulder, pinning him with glare, and the pink haired man lifted his hands in front of him with a smirk.

“Alright. If you say so.” he drawled.

“Quit it with that sufficient look. The lock has been acting up lately and I didn’t have time to call my aunt.”

The lock finally gave in and the door opened. Iwaizumi turned around with a lazy grin.

“Who’s the sufficient one now, asshole?”

They entered the apartment and Iwaizumi went straight to the cupboard where Takahiro knew he kept a not-so-secret stash of Oreos. The number of times he and Oikawa had raided it and had to endure the wrath of an Oreo-deprived Iwaizumi was countless. As he watched his friend stuffing his face, the young man shuffled out of his coat and plopped tiredly on the couch, eyes closed and head lolling lazily on the backrest.

“You know, I’m really glad to have you and Mattsun.”

Takahiro straightened at the sound of his voice. He sounded way too melancholic for it to be a good sign. And here he thought the fresh air and Oreos had worked their magic on Iwaizumi’s gloomy mind.

“Hey, um,” The pink haired man cleared his throat, hesitant “I’m glad to have you too. Even if you smacked me upside the head enough times in high school to make me lose all of my good brain cells.” he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Iwaizumi scoffed.

“You didn’t have any good brain cells to begin with. Not with that hair color.”

Gasping loudly, Takahiro lifted a hand to his chest and grasped at his heart, mouth agape in a mock offended expression.

“Attacking my aesthetic now? That’s low, my friend, really.” He pouted dramatically which caused a light chuckle to escape the other young man.

 _Crisis adverted. Hallelujah_ , Takahiro thought with a sigh. Little did he know, it really wasn’t, because the next thing Iwaizumi said had him hold his breath, eyes going wide.

“I love you, man. You know that, right?”

The young man felt a pang in his chest. That hurt. A lot. Their conversations that night had been a succession of 180°s, going from mundane and teasing to sad and heartfelt without so much as a warning.

But this was probably the worst moment of their night so far, at least for Takahiro.

“Holy hell.” he says nervously, looking everywhere except at Iwaizumi “I’m not letting you anywhere near a bottle of alcohol again. You saying so many mushy shit is worrying.”

The laugh he let out sounded strained, even to his ears, but he hoped the other hadn’t picked up on it.

“Maybe you should go sleep the sappiness off.”

“What’s wrong with being sappy?”

 _Oh god_. Iwaizumi was pouting again, arms crossed petulantly in front of his chest making the muscles of his arms ripple. He looked like a really buff child about to throw a temper tantrum.

“Because you, especially, being sappy is creepy, Iwa. So go to bed before you give me even more blackmail material than I already have.” Takahiro sounded more pleading than he meant to but he needed his friend to sleep off whatever it was that was going on with him tonight before he unconsciously hurt him more.

The black haired man narrowed his eyes at his friend before acquiescing, but not without stating his conditions.

“Okay. But you better sleep here. There’s no buses anymore and we both know you’re too broke to take a taxi all the way to your dorm.”

“Geez.” Takahiro rolled his eyes “Fine, mom.”

He observed with a concerned expression as his friend wobbled his way to the bathroom and disappearing inside. The young man listened carefully, ready to spring into action at any weird sound. He was silently praying for the rest of the night to pass without any other incident and for once, he thought, whatever deity that was out there seemed to take pity on him because Iwaizumi exited the bathroom unscathed barely ten minutes later, looking ready to collapse.

“Goodnight, Makki.”

“Yeah, good ni- Wait, that’s not your-“

The sound of the door of Oikawa’s room closing loudly cut him off. Takahiro let his eyes wander to the side, to Iwaizumi’s room. _Yeah_ , he scoffed, _there’s no way I’m sleeping in_ his _room_. He sighed for the nth time that night, long and defeated.

“Well then, the couch it is.”

The young man stood up and went to the bathroom to get ready for the night. Fortunately for him, with how much time he’d spent in this apartment, especially lately, he had his own toothbrush and a pair of sweatpants and a shirt stacked away on one of the top shelves in the bathroom.

While brushing his teeth, his mind went back to the events of the night and the anger he felt before came back full force. He’d rarely been this mad at a friend, if not ever, but lately the bare mention of Oikawa’s name was making his blood boil. Iwaizumi did not deserve to suffer like he was and what enraged the pink haired man the most was the fact that Iwaizumi was still calling him his best friend.

The young man spat in the sink in front of him and got dressed before going back to the couch, a rare scowl contorting his face, and grabbed his phone. He tried to channel his inner angry hedgehog the best he could before texting Oikawa.

 **PrincessPeach** :

im done with your shit now tooru im serious

you either man up or im breaking your neck next time i see you

you’re being a coward 

Takahiro’s phone ringed almost immediately after he sent it, to his surprise. _His highness has free time? Good._ Oikawa had basically ignored him ever since he confronted him the first time, claiming that he had a busy schedule as a foreign student.

 **Oinks** :

oh thats rich coming from you

how about you keep your nose out of other people business you hypocrite?

dont go around judging people when you’re no better yourself

Wow. The young man was taken aback. In five years of friendship, that was probably the most venomous thing Oikawa had told him. Sure, he had teased him and prodded at Takahiro about his secret crush but this… This was a whole new level of dickheadery and he wasn’t here for it.

 **PrincessPeach** :

you know what? fuck you

 **Oinks** :

get in line makki~

“Tch.” _That prick_.

 **PrincessPeach** :

i dont know why i even bother

 **Oinks** :

then dont

Oikawa’s blatant malice infuriated the young man to no end. Why did he put up with this anyway? He didn’t know. But the fact was that he was fed up with his friend attitude had him think that, yeah, maybe he should give up and not meddle. This whole ordeal did not deserve for Takahiro to waste any more time and energy on it.

He put his cellphone on the coffee table in front of the couch and lied down, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips.

As he drifted off to sleep, Takahiro hoped for this situation to solve itself as soon as possible. It was tearing all of them apart and the young man only wanted for them to go back to how they were.

* * *

(Iwaizumi Hajime went to sleep with a heavy heart that night.

But, on the other side of the world, across ocean and land, unbeknownst of him was the heart of someone else, longing, yearning, hurting all the same.)

* * *

_Middle of December._

Tooru halted on the pavement, in front of a familiar apartment building. His gaze went up, all the way to the windows of one of the apartment on the fourth floor. A wistful smile stretched his lips as he saw the curtains. They were blue – a special blue, teal blue to be exact – with what people could easily confuse as little green dots, but Tooru knew. He knew they were in fact little alien heads. It was his apartment after all, and he was the one who had bought them.

Tooru remembered with a snort the day he brought it home and Iwa-chan caught him putting them up.

_“You have got to be kidding me.”_

_Tooru let out a yelp he would later deny ever letting out, and almost fell off the chair he was standing on, at the sound of the voice of his clearly done best friend. He looked over his shoulder with a sheepish grin, ready to defend his choice when he produced another undignified sound at the sight offered to him._

_The thing is, Tooru had heard his friend was in the shower when he came back earlier. What he was not expecting was for said friend to come out of the bathroom still partially wet, usually spiky hair plastered to his forehead and dressed only in sweat pants that were riding so low on his hips it should have been illegal._

_His mouth went dry as he followed helplessly the path of a drop of water down his friend’s jaw, along the tendrils of his neck, across his chiseled chest and down defined abs, only to end its course at the waistband of his pants. That V-line was literally asking for teeth to nibble on it and Tooru would have gladly volunteered._

_He tried to hide his quite obvious drooling behind a falsely offended huff and flicked a stray strand of hair out of his eyes before turning around properly. Putting a hand on his hip, he stared down at Iwa-chan… who was looking up at him, unimpressed, crossed arms making his biceps look obscenely well-defined and_ impossible _to ignore. Mother Nature was testing Tooru’s limit and he was two seconds away from indulging._

_He cleared his throat loudly, and before Iwaizumi could even utter a word, he started his argument._

_“They’re absolutely perfect and I won’t take any criticism, Iwa-chan. Look, they’re the exact same blue as our old team, which is a nice reminder of the best years of our lives so far, and this color will bring light in the main room! We need something fresh and modern! We’re two young and free men at the conquest of the world, not an old married couple, so we need our flat to look the part.” he declared triumphantly, smiling down at his friend._

_Iwa-chan looked as done as ever, eyebrow raised and arms still crossed._

_“And what about the alien heads?”_

_“They’re fashionable. Not that you would know anything about it anyway.”_

_“You’re a nerd, just accept it.”_

_“And you have no taste, so we’re even.” Tooru said, pouting._

_His friend rolled his eyes and turned on his heels, clearly amused, making his way back to his room while stretching his arms over his head, back muscles rippling. Tooru bit his lips and inhaled longingly at the sight._ Stop drooling all over your best friend friend _! he silently admonished himself._

_He still called after Iwaizumi one last time before the door to his room closed anyway, just to be sure he was the one with the last word in._

_“We need this apartment to look perfect so I can rub it in Makki’s face!”_

As a matter of fact, the next time Makki had visited them, he’d needed a good five minutes to catch his breath after bursting out in laughter at the sight of the curtains. The memory brought a forlorn smile on Tooru’s face. They’d spent so much time together in this apartment but recently, thinking about it just left a sour taste in his mouth.

The pernicious breeze of december permeated through his coat and sweater and crawled along his spine, making him shiver and bringing him out of his bittersweet reverie. He hugged himself tightly, rubbing his gloved hands on his upper arms to somehow bring back some feelings in it. _You can do it_ , he told himself, trying to give himself some courage.

That was the moment one of his neighbors chose to come out of the building, stopping when they caught sight of Tooru.

“Tooru-kun! It’s been some time! How are you?”

“Good evening, Kobayashi-san. I’m great, thank you.” Oikawa answered with an easy smile.

Kobayashi-san was their across the hall neighbor and also Tooru’s favorite. He would spent hours discussing with her about the gossip going around, while watching k-drama in her small living room. She was an old woman, in her seventies, with round black eyes and a quick wit that had taken Iwa-chan and him by surprised the first time they met her. She was also really welcoming and generous and would sometimes bring them bentos out of the blue, pretexting making too much food. She was like another grandmother.

“Well, that’s good, really good. I’m worried about our little Hajime, though. He’s been looking quite out of it lately. I wonder why.” she said, looking up at him.

And that made Tooru stiffen. She had a glint in her eyes that clearly said she was suspecting something, and it was linked to him. He swallowed thickly around the lump in his throat. That old lady was way too perceptive sometimes.

“Really? I’ll see what I can do then!” he replied, his voice the worst pretense of cheerfulness.

“But I don’t want to hold you up any longer. Go find him! I’m sure you have a lot to talk about.” ( _Haha, could she be any more subtle?_ ) “I’m running late for my reading club anyway.” She winked at him, with a plotting smile on her face.

“Oh, right. Your reading club.” _Reading club my ass. At an izakaya_.

She patted him on the cheek and left as quickly as she appeared, sauntering away.

Tooru turned his gaze away, stilled himself and walked resolutely towards the door. He took the elevator to the fourth floor, rummaging hastily in his backpack to find the keys of his and Iwaizumi’s apartment. Knowing he had a fourteen hours flight from JFK to Tokyo and that he would be taking the train right after to go back to Miyagi, the young man had opted to travel with only his backpack and had intended to stop by the flat to get some clothes before going home. It really wasn’t necessary for him to travel with a huge suitcase when he had everything he needed already there.

Besides, he knew his friend wouldn’t be there. It was the first weekend of winter break and Iwaizumi had always insisted on taking the first train back to Miyagi when they would go home so they wouldn’t have to rush when they arrive. Which meant he would be all alone in the apartment and wouldn’t have to undergo his best friend’s anger.

The young man wanted to avoid confrontation for as long as he could. He knew perfectly his spiky haired friend would come after him the minute he’d set foot in Miyagi, but then Tooru knew where to go to avoid him. Here, in Tokyo, it was a whole other story. He cringed internally at his own cowardice. All that was happening was his fault and his only. He was knee deep in the stickiest situation he’s ever been in and the only thing he wanted to do was flee. Because he knew, that even if Iwaizumi was hurt, he wasn’t the only one Tooru was worried about. He’d also been gratuitously mean to Makki too.

The thing was, he knew how to deal with Iwa-chan’s anger but he’s never had to deal with Makki’s, at least not when it was aimed at him. He knew for a fact that contrarily to Iwaizumi’s explosive anger that would die down relatively fast, his pink haired friend’s was like a seething pot of water waiting for the slightest moment of inattention to overflow and scald whoever was nearest.

They’d have a small peek at what an angry Hanamaki Takahiro was in their final year of high school when Watari had come out as aromantic and people around the school had started calling him dysfunctional. Nobody had dared say anything about him after Makki had went directly into one of the bullies face and had shot them down with only his words. It was the first and only time they’d seen him lose his cool that way. How do they say again? Ah, yes. Still waters run deep. So Tooru wasn’t kin on facing him either.

The elevator’s door opened with a _ding!_ and the young man stepped out of it. He hesitated again when he arrived in front of their apartment’s door, heart heavy in his chest. _Come on. You get in, take some clothes and get out. Not so complicated now, is it?_ He unlocked the door and was met with darkness. Turing the light on in the genkan, he took off his shoes and his coat, dropped his backpack and then walked into the main room. Rays of light were filtering through the fairly thin and honestly tacky curtains ( _they’re cute as hell though_ ) and illuminated the room with a soft yellow glow.

He’d missed it. It was his home after all, and it was good to be home, even if for just a few minutes. He’d been quite lonely during his time in the United Sates. Life over there was not how he expected it to be and he even came to the point where he regretted ever accepting doing this exchange.

The chestnut haired man shook his head, trying to get rid of these negative thoughts, and made his way to his room. If he was fast enough, he should be able to take the last train for Miyagi and arrive there around midnight. Then he would be able to postpone his inevitable confrontation with Iwa-chan for a few hours more. He opened the door, flicked the light on and stopped dead in his track.

Nothing had changed, really. Everything was in the exact same place as he had left it. However, what had abruptly stopped him in his mission wasn’t that.

There was someone lying in his bed, sleeping on top of the wool comforter his mom had bought for him when he moved out.

Now, he’d known life would come and bite him in the ass sooner or later, but he had been hoping it could be later. Unfortunately with karma, you never get to choose, you only get served what you deserve, and what he deserved, right now, was watching helplessly as his best friend slowly rose from his slumber, disoriented but still clutching a pillow – Tooru’s pillow – to his chest.

A lump formed in his throat as Iwaizumi sat up, rubbing his eyes at the sudden light, the pillow falling in his lap. He was wearing his classical winter pajamas – sweatpants and a lose t-shirt – and oh, how Tooru had missed that sight. He had looked forward to see him every morning, disheveled and sleepy, scratching the back of his head with a groan, his shirt riding up his stomach just enough for Tooru to catch a glimpse of his naturally tanned skin.

But now he wished he hadn’t, especially with how Iwaizumi’s face fell when his green eyes locked with his brown ones. He watched, strangely bemused, as his friend’s expression changed, jaw tightening, brows furrowing above a pair of eyes where a storm began to grow.

“Oikawa.” he said dryly. His tone made Tooru flinched.

It wasn’t loud nor overly venomous, not even angry. Just plain and monotonous. But it still felt like a slap to the young man’s face.

“What are you doing here? You should be in Miyagi. It’s winter break.”

From the moment the words had left his mouth, Tooru knew he should’ve never have said that. But it was too late. He saw pain flash in Iwaizumi’s eyes. It lasted only a second, just long enough for Tooru to identify it as such, but anger took its place rapidly as the dark haired man in front of him let out a sneer, rictus deforming his mouth into an ugly grimace.

“Well, I’m glad to see you had everything planned” he spat “Sorry to ruin your carefully crafted plan, but I didn’t feel like going home immediately. I had a feeling you’d be there but clearly, I was wrong.”

And, wow, that hurt. Iwaizumi wasn’t even looking forward to confront him and get an explanation out of him. He was always the one in their friendship to take matters in his own hands to solve conflicts between them. He was the one who would reach out when Tooru would close himself up and pretend like nothing happened. Realizing that, this time, Iwaizumi wouldn’t fight, made him wonder if their friendship was broken beyond repair. If he tried to mend it, would Iwaizumi even let him.

Iwaizumi didn’t let him any time to find an answer though. He stood up stiffly from the bed and walked towards the door. Tooru refused to look at him, choosing to keep his gaze fixed somewhere on the opposite wall and praying for his friend to just walk by and leave, as much as it would pain him. The young man stop next to him anyway, facing stubbornly away, and delivered the last blow.

“Can’t really say I’m happy to see you, so just drop the keys on the kitchen counter when you leave.”

Iwaizumi left him there, taking with him a piece of his heart.

Tooru let out a shaky exhale, blinking frantically as he felt tears prickle at the corners of his eyes. He was only getting what he deserved, he knew that, but that did not make it any easier. He was half expecting to hear him leave, slamming the door behind him.

“Actually, you know what? Fuck it.” he heard, mere seconds before being shoved against the doorframe, his dark haired friend’s hands fisting his collar and yanking him down so his face was inches away from Tooru’s.

Hajime could feel the anger growing in him by the seconds, constricting his lungs, making it harder to breathe. _How dare he?_

“I think I deserve at least an explanation.” he growled “If I did something wrong, you could at least have the courage to say it to my face.” His next words were pained as he talked again after a pause. “Just give me a chance to fix it, whatever it is.”

Silence. Deafening silence. This is what he was greeted with. He searched his friend’s face for any clue, whatever it was, but Oikawa’s face was strangely expressionless. He kept avoiding his gaze, looking stubbornly at something over Hajime’s shoulder.

“Really? You’re gonna keep acting as if I don’t exist?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. Hajime let go of the other young man’s sweater, stepping back.

“Tch. Maybe you really should have gone to Shiratorizawa. I wouldn’t have to deal with your sorry ass that way”

And Tooru’s face blanched in an instant, jaw twitching, cold hazel eyes locking with his.

 _Oh fuck_ , Hajime thought.

The last time he had seen this look on his friend’s face was when Ushiwaka had told him he made the wrong choice by deciding to going to Seijoh and that his pride was what had caused their demise. Oikawa had been radiating with murderous intent in such powerful waves back then even Hajime had felt it where he had stood, hidden behind one of the pillars of the gymnasium’s main hall.

And his face was screaming bloody murder again.

But his time, it was aimed at him.

 _Oh fuck_ , he thought again.

Right before Oikawa slapped him across the face with all his might.

He stumbled backwards, stunned by the sheer strength behind that single blow. He lifted his hand to his face, where could feel the burn left by the aftermath of Oikawa’s slap and raised his eyes to look at his friends. He was fuming, breath coming out in short puffs, eyes wild. If he had kept his face carefully neutral before, his emotions were now clearly depicted by his whole being. Clenched, trembling fists, chest rising and falling rapidly, stance wide as if ready to attack at Hajime mere movement.

“How dare you.” he gritted through clenched teeth.

Oikawa forcefully shoved Hajime in the chest, forcing him back until he fell back on the bed. The dark haired man, suddenly getting out of his stunned state, caught hold of his friend’s sweater on his way down and pulled on it to make him fall. Oikawa landed on him with a huff, quick to get back to his senses and started to wrestle with him.

Oikawa wasn’t small by all means. Granted, next to his spiky haired friend, he looked thinner, but he was also taller. His lithe body was all powerful muscles and quick reflexes. That’s why when he tried to pin him down, Oikawa turned them around in one swift motion and came out on top, thighs straddling his hips, dropping all his weight on him. His hands surged forward and grabbed Hajime’s shirt only to yank him up, his snarling face invading his friend’s space. Hajime’s own hands went up to clutch the other young man’s forearms, to try and throw him off, but he faltered when Oikawa opened his mouth.

“You wouldn’t understand!” he screamed “You’d never understand and I can’t keep going like this!”

That immobilized Hajime better than the man who was currently sitting on him. His eyes went wide. Time stopped as they both tried to catch their breath, heavy breathing resonating in the sudden stillness of the room. The dark haired man observed his friend, concerned. Tooru was clutching his shirt to the point where his knuckles were white. He was trembling all over, eyes squeezed shut.

“Then talk to me.” Hajime pleaded softly, voice breaking.

Oikawa’s eyes snapped open and he watched, powerless, as tears pooled in his friend’s eyes, as his lips started to quiver.

“You wouldn’t understand.” he repeated.

The young man pursed his lips and decided to lighten his grip on his friend’s arms. It looked like he wouldn’t try to fight Hajime anymore, so he slowly slid his hands down the other’s forearms and loosely wrapped his fingers around his wrists, thumbs gently caressing Oikawa’s pulse point. That seemed to anger him even more.

He tore his hands away from his friend’s and stood up from the bed hastily, putting distance between them. Hajime couldn’t help the tight feeling in his chest at the sight of his friend’s tormented expression. He waited patiently for him to try and compose himself. Several minutes went by like this, with Oikawa standing stock still a few feet away from the bed, from him, clenching and unclenching his fists, face down and eyes shut tightly. Hajime sat silently on the bed, observing him warily.

After several breath, his chestnut friend started to talk again, voice hoarse.

“I never meant for everything to turn out like this. It was never meant to get this messy. I’m sorry.” He sniffled loudly before continuing, murmuring “I just… I don’t know what I was doing.”

“Alright. But still. Why?” Hajime was lost. A frustrated groan resonated in the room and it wasn’t him.

“I… I wanted to distance myself. From you. And before you say anything like “ wasn’t moving on the other side of the world enough?”, no it wasn’t. I needed to distance myself… emotionally… ”

“What-”

“Please let me finish.” He stole a glance at Hajime. His eyes were focused again despite the sound of his voice, seeming to analyze the dark haired man’s expression. “I was… getting jealous. Ever since we started university, all those girls, they were just… gravitating around you. You were going on dates and-”

“You fucking ghosted me for months because girls were paying attention to me and not just you?!” he exploded, standing up from the bed. “What the hell Oikawa!”

He looked at his friend with wide, incredulous eyes. That was somehow worse than anything he ever came up with during the last few months. He needed to _emotionally distance himself_ from Hajime because he was _jealous_ of him? Over some girls?

“No!”

“Then why?!”

“Because I wanted you to myself!”

The young man threw his hands in the air, shaking his head.

“That’s an even shittier reason!”

“See? I told you you wouldn’t understand!”

“Oh, I understand perfectly, you selfish dick.”

“No!”

Oikawa was frantically running his hands through his hair, messing it up to a point he would usually never allow. He was looking desperate, expression wild and eyes so wide they looked like they would pop out of their socket any second. 

“Those girls!” he suddenly said “The way you looked at those girls! The way you blushed when they complimented you! _I_ wanted to be the one to do that! I wanted to be the one to make you blush! I wanted to be the one you looked at like I was the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen!” He pressed the heel of his palms to his wet eyes ( _when did he start crying?_ ) and let out a shaky exhale, whispering in croaky voice “I wanted you to want me like you wanted them.”

Hajime gaped at him.

Oh.

_Oh._

_That makes a lot more sense_.

“So that’s why I ignored you. I needed to get rid of these feelings.” Oikawa was wiping his cheeks, sniffling softly, carefully avoiding his friend’s eyes again. “I didn’t want them to ruin our friendship.”

A scoff escaped from mouth, corners of his lips tilting up into a scornful smile.

“But I went and did exactly that without even admitting anything, isn’t that fantastic?”

His tone was acerb, but Hajime knew perfectly that it was not directed at him. He was well versed in Oikawa Tooru and his different ways of expressing himself.

“So, uh…” he uttered after realizing he’s been silent for probably too long “Are you… saying what I think you’re saying?”

“If you think I’m saying that I’m in love with you, then yeah, definitely.”

“Ok. Uhm…”

He frowned at himself. _How eloquent_ , he thought, internally rolling his eyes. He was elated, really, but he couldn’t wrap his mind around this whole situation. It was surreal. Being in love with your best friend and them loving you back was a scenario straight out of some shoujo manga, it wasn’t suited for real life.

Oikawa seemed to take his silence and his thoughtful expression for something different though. He batted his hand dismissively, still wiping his face dry with his fingers, brows knitting as he evade Hajime’s gaze again.

“Don’t worry” his voice wavered, “I’ll be out of your hair soon. You won’t have to deal with me anymore.”

“Wait a second-”

“No. Your face says enough.”

“Shittykawa-”

“Don’t feel like you have to spare my feelings. It’s actually worse. I can handle rejection.”

“Oikawa-”

“I’m leaving.”

“Tooru!”

As his friend turned around and made to leave, Hajime lunged forward and grabbed his shoulder, forcing Oikawa to face him again. He went completely still, eyes tightly shut, lips pursed and nose crunched up.

“Tooru… Would you look at me? Please.”

The young man kept his lids obstinately closed despite his friend’s soft plea. Calloused hands went up to Tooru’s face, encasing it with such care, as if it was their most precious possession. The chestnut man stiffened under Hajime’s touch.

“I’m begging you. Please…Look at me.”

Oikawa slowly opened his eyes. They were red-rimmed, brimming with tears and barely hidden hurt, and Hajime felt a pang in his chest at the woeful sight. What a mess. If only one of them had said something earlier, they would’ve had avoided all this. Unfortunately, they’ve both been afraid of the same thing: rejection and losing a unique friendship; because, whether he wanted to admit it or not, deep down, Hajime had known for a long time he was in love with his best friend. He simply had been too stubborn to realize… But he was done fighting it.

As he spoke again with an unusually gentle, warm voice, he stroked his thumb to the underside of Tooru’s eye, catching a tear and wiping it away tenderly.

“Some nights, I missed you so much I slept here, in your bed, because it smells like that stupid coconut serum you put in your hair every day.”

Tooru’s eyes grew infinitesimally larger as they roamed across his face, searching for something, probably a proof of dishonesty, but when they found nothing they went back to his and Hajime let a small smile stretch his lips carefully.

“Iwa-chan…” he breathed softly “Hajime.”

“I don’t think _friends_ do that, do you?”

At those words, Oikawa started to cry in earnest, hiccupping, and tried to hide his face behind his hands, only for Hajime to gingerly push them away and cradle his face again. He leaned into the touch this time, closing his eyes with a sigh. Hajime took advantage of this to admire his friend’s features, brushing delicately his thumbs across Tooru’s wet cheeks. For someone build like an athlete, all toned muscles and strong limbs, his face was definitely on the pretty spectrum, with his high cheekbones, plump lips and smooth skin.

“You’re ugly when you cry” he murmured as he craned his neck, getting on his tip toes slightly, to press his own lips against Tooru’s eyelids in a light kiss. “No, really, you’re gross.” he smiled against the other’s skin.

“Mean Iwa-chan.” Oikawa whined, without any real feelings behind it.

“But I love you anyway, so what does it say about me?”

He had meant it as a rhetorical question, but his best friend, petty as he was, felt compelled to answer anyway.

“It means you’re just as gross.” he pouted “We can be gross together now.”

He let out a quiet laugh at that, which quickly caught in his throat as his chestnut haired friend turned his head to plant a kiss in the center of his palm. A loud gulp could be heard in the sudden silence of the room as Tooru looked at him through half lidded eyes. And honestly, he shouldn’t have been allowed to be this enticing since his face was all blotchy with tears and his eyes puffy. But leave it to Oikawa to look like that even after crying, completely debunking Hajime’s previous argument.

A pair of hands snaked their way around his waist, pulling him flush against the taller man’s body.

“Hey, Iwa-chan.” he muttered, invading his friend’s space as he leaned forward “Can I kiss you?”

Being able to switch moods as easily as he did shouldn’t be legal. In fact, nothing about Oikawa Tooru should be legal, Hajime thought as he gave a curt nod, allowing his friend to finally, _finally_ press his lips against his in a feather light kiss.

Closing his eyes, he let himself melt into the soft touch, moving his arms to wrap lazily around Tooru’s neck. A sigh escaped him as the other man moved away slightly, only to kiss him again almost immediately, more firmly this time, tilting his head, slotting his lips perfectly against Hajime’s and, _god_ , it felt amazing. Oikawa’s smooth lips glided across his chapped ones eagerly, breath coming out of his nose in a short huff. Hajime couldn’t understand how he denied himself this for so long. It felt better than any other kiss he ever had.

Plastering himself against Oikawa, he pushed harder against his friend’s full lips, craving for more. His foggy mind registered absentmindedly how one of Tooru’s hands was resting, splayed, on the small of his back pushing their hips flush together, while the other had slid to the back of his head, fingers gently massaging his scalp.

Something wet swiped teasingly across Hajime’s bottom lip before retreating immediately. He felt it again and again and again, until he let out an irritated grunt, feeling his chestnut friend’s lips form a coy smirk against his own. He surged forward greedily but Tooru moved his head back again, just out of reach.

“My my, Iwa-chan.” he drawled in a sultry voice “Impatient much?”

“You better get back to kissing me, Shitykawa or so help me, I will bite off your tongue.” Hajime growled impatiently.

“I kinda need it to kiss you.”

Before Hajime could get anything out, Oikawa dived right back in, crashing his mouth against his in a bruising kiss. This time around, Hajime was the one to open his mouth and lick the other’s lips, asking for permission. Tooru granted him access, humming happily.

However, when their tongues finally touched, the young man reared his head back suddenly, shocked, wide green eyes staring into just as wide and confused hazel ones.

“Iwa-chan wha-”

“What the hell did I just feel in your mouth?”

Oikawa pinched his lips together, eyes swiftly looking down at something on Hajime’s shirt.

“Um…”

“Shittykawa…” Hajime said warningly.

The chestnut man mumbled something inaudible without looking at him.

“What?”

Hajime watched in awe as a flush started to spread across his scrunched up nose and cheekbones.

“ImighthavegottenmytonguepiercedwhileIwasaway.”

“You, what?” Hajime gaped.

Tooru still wasn’t looking at him and he had started fidgeting under Hajime’s arms like a schoolgirl about to confess. His hands went back to rest on his shorter friend’s waist, rather awkwardly this time. _What on earth… Why is he so cute?_

“Look, one of the girls in my psychology 101 class said it felt really good when you kissed and… other… uh, things… So I wanted to try. But I didn’t! Try anything, I mean!” he added hastily, growing redder by the seconds “No one caught my attention and it felt wrong when you were the only one I really wanted to do things with.”

“So you got a tongue piercing?” Hajime was flabbergasted. What an idiot. An impulsive, irresistible idiot.

“Yes.”

After what seemed hours of awkward silence, Tooru finally glanced at him only to grimace when he saw the sly smirk on his best friend’s face. Hajime could see the wariness in his gaze, so he decided a bit of teasing was in order.

He licked his lips before purring tauntingly “So, you want to do _things_ with me, huh?”

“Oh my god.”

Tooru sat back on the couch with a contented sigh, satiated, a cup of hot tea warming up his palms. Iwa-chan had forced him to eat something after a loud growl from his stomach had abruptly disrupted their rather intense make out session. And, to be honest, the chestnut haired man had never been happier with his best friend’s motherly instinct. It had been ages since he ate udon and Iwa-chan was known to be a great cook.

“Thank you, Iwa-chan.” he smiled lazily. Iwaizumi was sitting sideways on the couch next to him, a cup of warm tea in his hand.

He peeked at Tooru over his steaming cup, smirking teasingly.

“Gotta keep that scrawny ass of yours in shape.”

Tooru squinted at him, before crossing his arms, a wide, defiant grin spread of his face.

“You weren’t calling it scrawny when you felt it up earlier. You even seemed thrilled, if I do say so myself.” he drawled, watching with satisfaction as Iwaizumi choked on his tea.

His spiky haired friend send him a dirty look, probably hoping to shut him up.

“Oh, don’t be like that Iwa-chan. You had it coming.”

After some time sipping tea from their respective cups in a comfortable silence, Tooru’s mind thought it would be good to remind him of the conversation he had with Mattsun the previous week. His ever so detached friend had off-handedly mentioned his decision to stay in the United States another year and the young man had tried to deflect the conversation until Mattsun’s voice had started to sound outwardly accusatory after mentioning Iwaizumi. The call had ended with Mattsun calling him an asshole, hanging up on him.

Tooru frowned at the memory. _I’ll have to talk to him too. But for now…_ He sighed loudly, cradling the cup in his lap, and started to speak before he had a chance to panic and chicken out.

“So, uhm, about next year…”

“You’re wondering if we can manage long distance?”

When he looked at Iwa-chan, Tooru couldn’t read any emotion on his face for his friend seemed to be trying to keep his expression as neutral as possible. Ok, bad move.

“No. Yes. I mean- no. I know we can manage a long distance relationship but-”

“Oh really?”

The dark haired man leveled him with an unimpressed stare and opened his mouth, certainly to argue, but Tooru raised his hand to stop him.

“I _know_ we can do it, but it’s not about that. I… I’m coming back next ye-”

“If you’re coming back just because we finally sorted our shit out, I swear to god-”

“Will you let me talk?” the young man interjected frustratingly.

Iwaizumi clamped his mouth shut and nodded, allowing Tooru to keep going.

“Thanks. Now, where was I? Before being rudely interrupted. Several times.” He gave a pointed look to his childhood friend who rolled his eyes and pouted. His eyebrows raised at the childish look on the man’s face. _That’s new… Anyway_. “The only reason I even thought about staying there was because I was scared to face you again after what I’ve done. I knew I would end up confessing my feelings because we both know you wouldn’t have let go of it otherwise.”

Iwaizumi arched a brow. _Well, look at how it panned out_ , he seemed to want to say as he stared at Tooru.

“Yeah, yeah, the irony of the situation isn’t lost on me Iwa-chan, no need to look at me like that.”

He locked eyes with his friend and stilled himself for what he was about to say.

“Anyway, since we finally sorted this whole thing out, there’s nothing keeping me from coming back. I don’t like the people there, most of them are just hanging out with me because I’m a foreign student and the rest is either completely indifferent or blatantly racist. The volleyball team is shitty at best, my professors are acting like I’m dumb because I’m not fluent in English – they have no idea how smart I am in Japanese, entitled assholes… Oh, and let’s not forget that there’s a bunch of homophobes I share several classes with and if I have to shut my mouth and endure their bigotry one more semester than necessary, I might murder someone” he exhaled angrily at the memory, before continuing in a soft voice. “It’s lonely there, Iwa-chan. I’m at the point where I miss Ushiwaka, can you imagine?”

Tooru laughed at himself ironically but kept going anyway. There was no stopping his word-vomit now.

“But, I was wondering if, I don’t know, if you wanted me to move out. No, no, hear me out.” he pleaded when he noticed the deep frown on Iwaizumi’s face “I know we agreed to not hide from each other ever again and that’s not what I’m trying to do. It’s just, maybe you want some time for yourself? Without having to deal with a clingy, useless boyfriend 24/7 because you live in the same apartment. Maybe it’d be better if we had each our own place just to be sure we’re not rushing this and that it’s actually something we both want. Not that I’m not sure! I am. But maybe you-”

“Ok, stop right there with the self-depreciating bullshit.” Hajime interjected with a raised hand.

He extended his arm to take the cup out of Tooru’s hands and bent forward to put it on the coffee table, next to his. When he straightened back up, Iwaizumi cupped his friend’s face in his hands and kept his gaze firmly locked with him, determined.

“I want this. I’m sure of it. Even if you’re a spoiled little brat who sulk and pout. Even if you’re clingy as hell and stick to me like glue. Even if you sing in the shower _every single time_ and it’s terribly off key. Even if, you look like a sea urchin in the morning and I can’t speak to you until you’ve had your first coffee.” Hajime looked at him with the sweetest smile Tooru had ever seen on him, eyes crinkling at the corner softly. “I love you, qualities and flaws. This what makes you whole.”

Tooru felt tears pool in his eyes again and his friend decided that, apparently, it was the perfect moment to say the cheesiest thing he heard him say in his entire life.

“You’re my brand of perfect Tooru.”

The chestnut man sniffled loudly, tears rolling freely down his face and lunged at the other, making them tumble down on the couch. They landed with a huff, Tooru wasting no time and pressing his face into the crook of his friend’s neck, gently chanting “I love you” against his skin.

His heart expended in his chest, happiness warming up his blood, as he felt a pair of strong arms wrap around him, hugging him tightly to the other’s chest.

“So, uhm, boyfriends?” Iwa-chan’s voice was hesitant.

Tooru lifted in face, hazel eyes roaming all over the face of the man laying underneath him with curiousity.

“Yeah.” he declared decidedly. “Boyfriends.”

“I like the sound of it.”

A huge grin appeared on Iwa-chan’s face and Tooru couldn’t help but smile brightly in return. What a day. He had come here in the hope of postponing as long as he could his reunion with his best friend but karma had decided otherwise and had forced him to confront his feelings. In retrospect, he couldn’t be more happy about it. It had felt freeing to be able to let go of his restraints and lay himself bare in front of the one person in this world who knew him the best and still never judged him.

His heart was soaring, making him all warm and pliable against Hajime’s chest as he moved to sit up, refusing to let go of Tooru. A gentle hand made its way through his hair, caressing it tenderly, slid back to his face to cup his jaw, a thumb stroking softly the smooth skin of his cheek.

“Hey,” came the quiet the whisper as he felt a kiss on the tip of his nose, “We should go to bed. You’re literally falling asleep on me.”

Tooru hummed, not concerned in the slightest about where he fell asleep, as long as he could be in his boyfriend’s – it felt weird to say it – embrace. His eyelids fluttered open when Iwaizumi nudged Tooru’s head off his shoulder with a shrug. When did his head ended up there?

“When you started nodding off about ten minutes ago, dumbass. That’s why I’m telling you we should move to the bed.”

 _Oh, I said that out loud_ , he thought at Iwaizumi’s gruff response.

“Yes, you did. Now move.”

* * *

“Iwa-chan, carry me.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“No. And stop looking at me like that. That won’t work on me”

“Iwa-chan, please.”

“…”

“Hajime~”

“Alright! Jesus… Come here, you big baby”

“Yay!”

“Shut up.”

* * *

Warmth. All over. Wrapped around him and overwhelming his senses. Against his naked torso, his neck, around his waist and his legs, nestled in his arms. Hot puffs of air against his collarbones causing his sensitive skin to erupt in goosebumps. Tooru woke up.

His mind still foggy, his eyes fluttered open. The young man blinked several times to get rid of the blurriness of his sleepy sight before his eyes landed on a Godzilla poster on the opposite wall. He arched a brow. His groggy mind supplied with memories of the night before and he snorted quietly. They were both idiots.

Last evening had been an emotional roller coaster. From the moment Tooru found his best friend sleeping in his bed to when they went to sleep, cuddling and nuzzling each other.

Tooru dragged his eyes down to the sleeping form nestled against him and couldn’t help but ask himself: Is this real? Or am I just dreaming? Because never, in the past few years, had he fathom being able to hold the one he loved so desperately close to his heart like this. His arms wrapped around wide, muscular shoulders, legs intertwined and a head slotted perfectly under his chin. A wave of pure, unconditional love hit him square in the face and he felt the urge to press his face into the top of Iwaizumi’s head, his mop of spiky dark hair tickling Tooru’s nose.

“I love you so much Iwa-chan.” he murmured.

Iwaizumi groaned softly, tightening his arms to the point where Tooru thought he might break one of his ribs. Chuckling to himself, he grabbed his phone and snapped a picture of the two of them and sent it to Mattsun and Makki.

He basked into the warm atmosphere of the room until his phone started to ring. He yelped in surprise, startled. _Thank god, Iwa-chan is a heavy sleeper_ , he thought while checking for the name displayed on his screen. He scrunched up his nose, preparing for the incoming onslaught.

“I can see you’re back.” his pink haired friend’s voice said immediately, tone clipped.

No preamble, straight to business. Nice.

“Good morning to you too, Makki.”

“Yeah, good morning.” came the grumbling answer.

There was an awkward pause where none of them talked. Tooru didn’t know what to say and Makki was probably in the same state on the other side of the line.

“So,” his friend finally said “I saw you and Iwaizumi sorted your shit out. I’m glad.”

He sounded weird, voice tight and strangled. Tooru’s mood soured, guilt descending on him like a predator on its prey. He gulped around the lump in his throat.

“About that, Makki I’m-”

“It’s ok. I… forgive you, I guess.”

He was hesitant. He sounded so distressed, even through the phone. Tooru hated it, but he was responsible his friend’s hurt.

“You don’t really… sound like you’re sure of yourself. I can understand if you’re still angry-”

“Of course I’m still mad!” Makki exploded all of a sudden, causing the chestnut man to jump in surprise. “What you said fucking hurt Oikawa, and it still does! But…”

Tooru heard his friend exhale a long-suffering sigh.

“Makki…”

He didn’t even know where to start.

“Shut up. I’m trying to talk.” The pink haired man cut gruffly ( _You spent too much time with Iwa-chan_ , Tooru thought off-handedly as he heard a loud exhale.) “You’re one of my best friends, Tooru. So yeah, what you said hurt and was uncalled for and yeah, I’m mad. But it wasn’t a lie either. You could’ve definitely been less mean about it but… Yeah…”

He sighed again and Tooru couldn’t remember the last time his ever joking, always witty friend had seemed this afflicted. But he kept his mouth closed, not wanting to disrupt him. He was afraid he’d break whatever was happening them right now. He wanted them to get back to how they were and to do so they both needed to get off whatever it was they had on their chests. So he stayed silent.

“I guess,” Makki continued “What I’m trying to say is… I’m not letting go of our friendship like that. Even if you’re an asshat.”

Tooru snorted, letting the insult slide and preferring to tease his friend in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“Aw, Taka-chan.” he drawl in a sickly sweet voice.

“Ew, what the fuck! Don’t call me that!”

They laughed, good-heartedly, the heavy atmosphere of the phone call dissipating at last.

“Anyway, I’m glad you and Iwa finally got your heads out of your asses. Took you way too long in my opinion. Too much angst.”

“I know right?”

The two young men had continued to chat for a while after that, Makki’s voice gradually sounding more and more like its usual chirpy self. They’d talked about how Makki’s roommate was driving him up the wall because of his constant need to have sex with everything that moves.

“ _I swear_ ” he had said at some point “ _It’s even worse than when he was with his girlfriend! But at least I know he’s not against gay people._ ”

They’d also talked about the whole tongue piercing thing, Makki snickering the entire time and full on laughing when Tooru arrived to the part where Iwaizumi found out.

It felt good. It felt right. Tooru hadn’t felt this good in a while and laughing freely with Makki was therapeutic.

When they bid each other goodbye, the chestnut haired man couldn’t help but let out a quiet sigh, eyes prickling with happy tears. (He was going to need to drink liters upon liters of water if he kept crying like that. He blamed it on the jet lag.) Everything was looking bright again. He couldn’t wait to move back to Japan.

Iwa-chan stirred against his chest and lifted his head, squinting his eyes. He groaned loudly.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty. How did you sleep?” Tooru murmured, smiling down at him brightly.

“Mornin’” Iwaizumi sat up, untangling himself from his bedmate (to said bedmate’s chagrin), and rubbed a hand to his face roughly. “Pretty well, actually.” He looked at Tooru over his shoulder. “Guess I found my new favorite pillow.”

Blood rushed to Tooru’s face, causing his spiky haired boyfriend to smirk. He shot up and hugged the other man from behind, hiding his face in his shoulder.

“Not fair Iwa-chan. You keep attacking me with mushy one liners and I can’t fight.”

“Sounds like a “you” problem.”

A hand buried itself in his chestnut hair and he felt a light kiss on his temple. Lifting his head cautiously, Tooru came face to face with a softly smiling Iwaizumi.

“Come on. Let’s get breakfast. We both know how cranky you get if you don’t have coffee in the morning.”

Tooru couldn’t really argue with that. That’s why he pecked his boyfriend quickly on the forehead before swiftly getting up, leaving a dumbly smiling Iwaizumi in his bed.

“I’ll make pancakes!” he threw over his shoulder in a singsong voice.

The outraged response came almost immediately.

“You stay away from the stove!”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> 


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